Seeing Things
by Muse Kiisa
Summary: Hearts beat, people age, time runs out with your chances. Insanity gets grips on your mind, but still there's one hope left- if you can stay awake. -Are you really there? I should tell you...- Yaoi, SetoxJounouci


Seeing Things

A Yu-Gi-Oh Puppyshipping (Seto Kaiba x Katsuya Jounouchi) Oneshot

By Freaky Kiisa

Rating: Teen for nasty words, Japanese words, partial insanity and what comes of it, boys with crushes on other boys, and a little bit of sexual reference. Oh noes.

Disclaimer/Warning: This is a fan working, Kiisa in no way claims she owns Yu-Gi-Oh or any of its obviously gay characters. She just likes messing with their heads. Also, there is a reference to the poem about Ozymandius, King of Kings, though the title eludes me right now, and some lyrics from RENT are quoted. AT THE SAME TIME. WHAT NOW.

-

Seto Kaiba ripped the piece of notebook paper in half, clean down the middle, where he had been creating a perfect crease for a few minutes now. He let one half fell to the floor, but kept the half with the fringes on the side. Slowly, one by one, he pulled off all the fringes from the side of the paper with precise meticulous detail that suggested such mind-numbing time wasters had been practiced before.

He had done this, in fact, tore a paper until the entirety of the blank sheet was tiny pieces, millimeters thick, like a thin snow, no piece left unchecked. He did this because it was, as stated, completely mind numbing. Once you focused, stared long enough at the white and didn't look up, eventually all the thoughts deserted your mind, leaving you with a clean, blank, mathematical focus on tearing the paper apart bit by bit by bit. Kaiba found it much more therapeutic than writing out his thoughts on the paper anyway- one haunted you in the back of a notebook, the other could be swallowed and lost to the world by a simple vacuum without words to regret.

Once the fringes were gone, he concentrated on ripping clean straight slips of paper from the one half, leaving him, at length, with incredibly skinny long strips of paper that he proceeded to rip into nearly microscopic squares he let simply float to the floor of the school hallway. Someone would assume some delinquent had dumped them there, whether the tiny squares were all too uniform for a stupid prank or not.

The emptiness of his head was a relief, not only because he was trying to get away with skipping class for only the third time in his life. In the past year, his schedule had begun to take its toll. Getting up so early to go to school, staying up so late to work, worrying constantly about bitter company owners and burying screaming skeletons in the closet while trying to starve off an... infatuation. In fact, it wasn't just his love life or lack of which that was starving, the last meal he had he could pinpoint at about thirty-six hours ago, and as far as rest, he was running off two hours last night. This all led, basically, to _not good_. Though he had hoped he was rid of it, two things continued to haunt him.

The love for another that disturbed him at nights and a newer, more difficult curse still- the hallucinations.

He was shocked and terrified the first time it happened, seeing things was a symptom for drug abusers and maniacs. Reading up on the affliction, however, taught him that when a human being does not sleep for more then three days straight, the brain automatically starts making up images that aren't there, almost in envy of lost dreams. He discovered further through personal experience that very little sleep, trying to ignore an obsession, and lack of eating entirely could cause the same malady as well. He also learned telling someone gets you prodded and examined with your clothes torn off and your limbs strapped down as you're prescribed pills that actually make the visions clearer and more common, especially out of the corner of your eye.

A small slip of paper he wasn't done tearing fell out of his hands, and in a burst of annoyance he swept his arm through the whole pile, explosively scattering them across the hallway and catching the affronting, too-large piece before it again hit the ground. He immediately tore it up into jagged, minute pieces that fluttered almost painfully to the frozen linoleum floor. After a second or two of glaring at them and cursing himself for letting a compulsion allow thoughts in, her grabbed another slip of the first half of the sheet and resumed his mindless work.

He had just picked up the second half to continue when a small movement at the very end of the sickeningly long and empty hallway caught his attention, though he refused to look up. As the footsteps drew closer, it occurred to him it could be a teacher on break, or an administrator or such like figure of authority who could pronounce him as a slacker and mentally incompetent for the world to know, but at that point he figure as long as they thought he was strange why not go all-out and let them now he was on the edge of crazy?

He waited until the black vans tennis shoes were at the edge of his vision before making assumptions, but the tattered and unprofessional look of the shoes and the ripped up pants that rested baggy around them proved the figure to be a student. In that case, Kaiba decided to stop caring, and continued the work on his abused notebook paper.

"I know I'll regret asking this, but... what're ya _doing_?"

Seto Kaiba froze. His thoughts stopped, his hands stopped, he stopped blinking, every motion simply ceased. He knew the accent, knew the voice. It was the voice he pretended not to hear but screamed inside whenever he caught a strain of it. It was the voice that echoed and echoed in his head at nights and after punches and insults have been thrown until meanings that weren't even said were intensified to the point of weighing him down too much to walk. And today, right then, it spoke so calmly and so honestly curiously that he felt like falling asleep to make up for lost time, illogical though the impulse may be.

Kaiba swallowed against every nerve crying out inside him, and looked up.

Yup, that was definitely Jounouchi Katsuya. Lovely. That was the only word for this situation, mocking and sarcastic with a hint of snobbishness,_ lovely_.

Wait, had he actually said that out loud? He tested his voice, "_lovely_," to see if it sounded the same. It kind of did, but not really. So he either said it twice, or just once.

It still sounded like he hadn't said anything. The hallways swallowed the words into silence. Maybe a third time to check? No point, not when his voice didn't sound real. He sounded like a nutter by now anyway, may as well hug himself against his chest and hide his face in his arms and disappear into that nice little place inside his head, even though that made him look like he really was going crazy right there in school.

"Uh... I... are you... all right?" Oh god, hesitant and shocked, like it didn't believe in itself but was all the same worried... worse than he though, Jounouchi assumed the action meant something as _wrong_. Well, physically actually emotionally wrong, not all-in-your-nutty-little-head wrong. He was actually _worried._

Why couldn't Jounouchi be worried about him when he was horny ever? Why doesn't life work in ways that got him laid?

And more importantly, when will he figure out that random exasperated sighing and talking to himself in his head creates pauses to long to be conversationally healthy? He had a natural talent for killing any social occasion with long internal dialogue that he forgets people can't actually hear. Why couldn't people just read minds already?

...On second thought, no. But still, it would be nice to send his general sentiments without having to speak a long explanation to get through to them or get out of his comfortable position to flip the bird.

Conversation. Right. He should have spoken about thirty seconds ago.

"Go away inu. It's none of your business." Not what he meant to say, but he didn't know what he meant to say either. Nothing seemed right, though just about anything would have done. The way he said it was all wrong too- it wasn't growled or hissed or in a confident, pissed off tone or delivered in any threatening matter whatsoever. It seemed like a sigh- the only tone that came through was that he was obviously tired... it sounded... worn-out. Almost like he was sad.

Almost. Maybe.

There was another pause, but the weight of it rested on Jounouchi now, and though Seto had the grace and general fatigue not to even notice it, the press of a conversation was obviously uncomfortable to the blonde teen. Whatever, Seto didn't care. At least in ways anyone could tell.

"If ya haven't noticed by now, I dun just follow orders." Hell did he pick up that accent anyway? What mysterious land of sexy accents hid itself in the middle of Japan?

"Duly noted." Sarcastic, but without life. If there was a desk in front of him, Seto would bash his head open on it. Physical pain relives boredom, embarrassment, frustration, and stress, and gets you out of class as a bonus. Plus, he really just felt like ripping his forehead open sometimes. Just one of those urges, like chocolate cravings. Except bloody.

...

Silence. This is why he killed conversations, he never noticed the awkward silence until it was a good two minutes in and impossible to salvage. He tried anyway.

"...Don't you have a class to go to or anything?" Ah yes, the automatic conversation starter! When you have nothing in common with a person trying to converse with you or just want them to go away but you need to keep up appearances, mention a class or tell them how tired you are! Guaranteed, they will rant at you for ten minutes and not notice when you space out! Because you've only had a conversation that stared with 'I'm soooooooo TIIIIRED!' about A MILLION TIMES!!

Wait, did Jounouchi start talking during the internal rant?

"Well don't you?"

"Such a standard response, inu. Disappointing, actually, and kind of obvious. If there was a desk in front of me, I'd smash my head open on it." Wait, that part was supposed to _stay _internal monologue. Though it did make Jounouchi falter for a second.

"So then, the great Seto Kaiba is playing hooky?"

"I don't play at anything, make inu. You should know that." This was more familiar, a nearly scripted one-two one-two kind of verbal battle. He knew how to do this, and he always won. Just the thing to pull him out of his depressed funk.

"Funny, it looks to me like you play around with children's card games a lot... kind of juvenile to me really..."

Seto looked up to face Jounouchi in the eyes now, ignoring the liquid unexplainable swimming inside him from just watching his face. Any feeling can be ignored and even forced to inexist when you know what you're doing. All you have to do is convince yourself that feelings are illusion and you're perfectly capable of feeling icy nothing at all and hey presto, you're practically a machine. "Well then, if you're so grown up yourself you should be able to stop holding Yugi's hand and figure out how to do things yourself. Who knows, maybe you can learn to be potty trained first." He tried to smirk, but his face didn't move. It was blank sarcastic tired nothing.

There we go, Jounouchi was riled up. The spark in his bright woody brown eyes was the only passion Seto had managed to get him in, but if anger was what it took to see him alive and ready to fight, it was what he wanted to see. This was familiar anyway. Safe.

"Look, Kaiba, I dunno what yer problem is! Is the stick in yer ass shoved up so far that even your fancy expensive surgeons can't find it?!"

Normally, Seto would jump up, grab him, hiss, threaten, be angry or insulted or any passion, obvious or not. But now... now, he felt like sleeping. Curling up, closing his eyes, so heavy to keep open... to keep awake... maybe he could even rest his head somewhere on Jounouchi's shoes, reverse their roles, feel safety and comfort and how it was like to be held... to hold someone would be so nice, just feeling someone in his arms, being able to smell them as you leaned in to smile into their shirt, someone warm... just some warmth that didn't run away, just a warmth that stayed inside...

He stood. It was a slow standing with every muscle in him complaining like a whiney six year old, with his thoughts arguing on why and what to do next and how and reaching no coherent conclusion, with arms hanging useless like being so awake for so long had drugged him, like he was deprived of a fix, of rest, or of some other desire, the one he never said out loud, the sentence he swore never to complete.

He stood up fully. He straightened his back in a way that would make a High School Choir Director proud; he tried to breathe deep to slow down his heart (thump thump thump) even though oxygen hurt his lungs. It was a little known fact that oxygen is a poison- it's the direct cause of old age. He could feel it scraping off skin and it was sucked into his body, he could feel time being swallowed, swallowing him whole, as it ticked away (thump thump thump) and showed him how much had been wasted, how much time and how many years scorched his lungs, how little time he had left, how long it had been...

How long since there was a chance.

Just... a chance.

Seto lifted his head to stare into the eyes of Katsuya Jounouchi. He was almost confused now. Almost close enough to the barrier that separated them to see it.

"Jounouchi." A name. All that came out. Names listed, names burned, names described perfectly or didn't fit, names made you dizzy when you scrawled them in ink over your skin in places people don't see, names mean, names sound as nothing tolls...

He wasn't making sense. "Jounouchi... shut up." What was he saying? Was he dreaming by now? Maybe he actually was drugged. "Please, shut up. Please." Stuck on repeat. He could see the little button pressed down on the tape player, hear the building static and nothing tolls to meaningless, words and power to ashes and dust to dust. I am Seto Kaiba, King of Kings. Look upon my works, ye mighty... "If you could listen, I could tell you...

"I should tell you... I should tell you..." ...and Despair.

Jounouchi was... well, confused. But not in an exasperated way, not annoyed... for the first time, wide eyes, honest puzzlement... "Tell me?... What are you-"

"I actually don't know." Well ladies and gentlemen, it's that time, time to be blunt, please line up for honest unfiltered insanity, number one please. "There's a lot to say."

Eyes wider, slight disbelief. He lost it... he lost his chance, already, he was too much, too soon... "You're starting to scare me..."

"Starting? I hope you know... I take that as an invitation to continue."

Mouth open, closed. Nothing to say. Round one to Seto Kaiba.

Oh shit. He had to figure out something to say now. Where was that handy auto pilot switch from just a second ago? Try going numb, imagine ice begin held over your eyes and on your lips, you don't see without a glass cage in between and you don't hear what you actually say. "I should tell you... What should I tell you?..." I've got baggage... you don't want baggage without lifetime guaranties... "I could tell... you..."

"But them you'd have to kill me, right?"

No words. Round two, Katsuya Jounouchi. Though he was looking away now, embarrassed. "Well... that's what people normally follow up 'I could tell you' with..."

"You're comparing me... to normally..."

Now he really knew it was a stupid mistake... "Fine, just... um... continue then." He looked straight at Kaiba, a little impatiently. "What are you telling me?"

Sometimes, there are no words. "I could tell you..." Actions speak louder, when words won't say a thing... "But..." besides, he was never a speaker. "I would mess it up."

Jounouchi actually was a little mad now. "Then how in hell are you supposed to-"

Actions are louder. Sometimes they scream.

All it took was a shift of weight from his back to his front, a tilt on the balls of his feet, a hand out to steady himself, to hold the other boy's chin, a ghost of a touch, supernatural, chills down your spine...

It takes nothing to move into a kiss. It's so strange that people normally think such a small movement is so difficult. In Seto's state, the lean in was so natural he almost didn't notice he did it himself.

Actions speak. If Jounouchi had anything to say, it was drowned out.

A silent minute or so passed. Eyes closed, breath stopped, aging ended for a silent minute. A hand held but couldn't feel anything but a soft small pulsing warmth. Surprise gave way to acceptance and to void, unaware of anything but a soft fluttering pulse like the heart of a bird in motions new but somehow understood, accepted... safe. Maybe he was only seeing things. Only dreaming, or dead on his feet.

Seconds ticked away, minutes end. A pull apart, ticking fades to nothing, the void swallows it.

Still holding hands. Still warm, everywhere, like liquor. Disbelief, shock, joy, relief, bliss... and tired.

That's right. He was really, really tired. It had been days...

Seto let out a small exasperated groan, and without meaning to, let his head fall to rest on Jounouchi's chest, who stopped breathing for a second before Seto could feel how warm and soft he was.

"Seto?..."

Warmth, comfort...

"Jounouchi... I really, really need to _sleep_..."

There was no denying it. It was a whine. Maybe it was masculine or quiet or mature, but it was a whine.

But what he heard was also a chuckle. Laughter, happiness, he could feel the tremors through the blonde's chest and into his head... probably the best pillow he ever had.

"Then skip class and go to bed already. No one cares."

"...Thanks."

Minutes ticked, hearts beat, and people grew older. Slowly. There was still time.

"Seto?... Seto?... Goddammit, I didn't mean sleep HERE!"

Eyelashes fluttered, lips curved, time moved on. Things worked out.

-End


End file.
